Hogwarts A Home
by That'sModeratelyRaven
Summary: John Watson had always felt out of place, but when he finds out his families secret he is whisked away to Hogwarts where he meets Sherlock Holmes and finally finds a place that he belongs to. An AU in the Potter world where the teachers are the same as the potter books but not the students. Mystery, crime, love, and friendship all on top of exams, how ever will John survive?
1. Chapter 1

Ten more minutes. That's all that he had to do was make it ten more minutes and he would finally be free. All of the students from John's school were playing cards or talking in their various groups to pass the time until the bell would ring releasing them from this school year. John however sat on his copy of The Hobbit for what had to be the eleventh time. Despite the fact that John had now been going to this school for four years he never quite felt as if he belonged-it was as if something deep inside of him told him that he was meant to do more. He looked at the clock again and he now had mere seconds left, until bring, bring, the bell rang releasing him.  
Summer. It was finally summer. As much as John liked learning in school, nothing compared to the sweet freedom that came with staying out all day with his sister and exploring the woods around his house. John lived in a small village occupied by maybe 30 people. After his father had died in the war when he was seven his mom had relocated them here because she didn't want anything to remind her of him. She didn't even allow pictures of him to adorn the wall. John ran the whole way home, maybe a mile and a half away, and reached the front of his house panting. He ran inside yelling hello to his mom and threw his backpack into his closet, not to be seen until he entered middle school next year. John padded into the kitchen to get a glass of water and scrounge for a snack, but he noticed his mom crying at the kitchen table, clutching what looked like an old fashioned letter in her hand.  
"Mom" John said warily as he approached her, "Mom, what's going on, are, are you okay?" John reached out to place his hand on his mother's shoulder but she flinched away with him, refusing to make eye contact. Instead of saying anything she merely put the letter on the table and pushed it to John. Nerves and fear coursing through his veins, he shakily took the letter in his hands and read;

Dear Mr. Watson,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

John scrunched his face in confusion, then noticed that there was another piece of-what was it, parchment-attached and he picked it up,

Dear Mr. Watson,

We have been informed that due to extenuating circumstances your familial link to the Wizarding world is no longer in residence at your house. I would like to formally apologize for any confusion caused and send my sympathies to you and your surviving family. A Hogwarts representative will be send to your house on July the fifth at 7:30 am to explain to you what our school has to offer as well as take you supply shopping if you so choose to attend Hogwarts.

With sincerest apologies,

Minerva McGonagall

John became even more confused after he read the second letter attached. He looked up to his mom and questioned, "Mom, what does this mean, are they saying that dad and I are wizards? Why did you never mention it to me before?"  
His mother took in a deep breath and finally relented to his questioning, motioning to the chair next to her for John to sit in she began, "Yes, your father was a- was a wizard" she managed to choke out, slowly becoming more comfortable. "I didn't know that he was until after we had Harry because he left the wizarding world, he was upset about something to do with their secrecy so that's why he came to our world and joined the military." She then grabbed John's hand, "We decided not to tell you or Harry about him because we weren't sure if you were going to be wizards as well and didn't want to get your hopes, up just to disappoint you but, when you were little you started to perform what is called 'accidental magic." She explained taking a pause to formulate her words, "Your father said that he was going to tell you the next time he was home, but that was when-that was just before he was killed." She trembled, "I didn't want to tell you after that because it hurt too much to think about, you were already so much like him." She looked at the table embarrassed that she had kept this from John.  
John always was a child beyond his years, so he gave his mother a moment to collect herself, and himself a moment to think over what he had just discovered. So it wasn't a prank, he really was a wizard and he was going to go away and study magic-perhaps this was why he never quite fit in at his now old school. "So that time when I was nine and I fell out of that tree and didn't get hurt, that was magic?" John asked excitedly.  
His mom wore a sad smile on her face and said, "Yes, that's why we told you not to tell Harry-she wouldn't understand." John nodded in understanding, feeling sorry that Harry didn't get to be a wizard like him. "Wait" John realized, "Doesn't that mean that someone is coming here in two days to buy me supplies? And that I get to go to Hogwarts? Oh but I don't know anything about it!" Before John could keep rattling on his mother shushed him and stood up motioning for him to follow her up to her bedroom. When they reached it she pushed open the door and walked towards her bed, pulling out an old looking trunk. She picked it up and placed it on the bed opening it to take out its contents. Out of it came an old looking book labeled Hogwarts a History, an old looking photo album, a yellow and blue scarf, a hand written journal, and a wand. John eyed the pile greedily, "Can I have this stuff?" he asked, all tact gone in his excitement. "Yes, of course," his mom responded, "except for the wand, you need to have your own." John groaned in disappointment, but decided not to push the subject or he might not get any of it.  
John could feel the excitement coursing throughout his body as he collected his father's belongings. He raced upstairs to his room to get reading. He wanted to know everything he could about Hogwarts before he met someone from the school. "I had better get reading." He mumbled as he tucked into his favorite chair ready to discover the new world ahead of him.


	2. Chapter 2

John sat in his chair for three days straight, only leaving to grab food and water. He slept in the chair when he was too tired to keep reading and when he woke up he read again. Part of him stayed glued to the books out of excitement, but another more repressed part of him stayed hidden from the rest of his family out of fear of how they would react to him. He was afraid that Harry would be upset that she didn't get to go to Hogwarts too and he didn't want to hurt her feelings. John had already finished Hogwarts: A History, and was now onto reading his father's journal. Among the many passages his father's first day was his favorite. It read,

September 1

Dear Journal,

Huh, it feels weird writing down all of my thoughts like this, but who knows, maybe somebody will find it useful some day. Well, I got sorted into Hufflepuff today. There isn't much of a shocker there; everyone in my family has been placed there. The sorting hat said that I was a Hufflepuff through and through, just a brave one. Truth be told though, I wish that I had been put into Gryffindor; the house has a much better social status around it. Still, I met a few new friends already and I have my first classes tomorrow. I get to start Defense Against the Dark Arts! I already completely finished reading the textbook for the class, so I'm hoping that we get a chance to show our knowledge. The castle itself is amazing! No one in my family could've described it justly, the paintings talk, and the staircases move! I wish that first years could try out for the Quidditch team though, I know I could play beater! Well, I suppose that's all that really happened today. Ta for now!

-Watson

John thought it was hilarious that his dad didn't sign his first name on any of the journals. "What's a sorting hat?" he wondered. Hogwarts a History didn't mention it at all, just that they would be put into one of four houses. None of the houses sounded that bad to him. He just hoped that he got sorted at all. Something about this letter comforted him, knowing that his dad went through Hogwarts and made friends sent some sort of peace through John. He yawned, tired from a long day's reading and he fell asleep on that chair dreaming of Hogwarts and everything that awaited him.

The next thing John knew his mom was jostling him awake at 7:15 the next day. "Mom, go away, it's summer" he groaned, and she teased, "Okay, I guess I'll just have to contact Hogwarts and tell them not to send anyone. Now, that got John's attention. As if he had never been asleep at all he jumped up out of his chair and yelled, "I only have 15 minutes to get ready?" and raced out of his room to hop in the shower.

John was in and out of the shower in five minutes and then hoped down the stairs as he tried to get his pants put on all of the way. He chose to wear a simple outfit of jeans and a t-shirt, not wanting to seem over eager, but show that he cared. He now sat at the kitchen table, having wolfed down a breakfast of tea and toast, his stomach so filled with butterflies that he couldn't eat anything else. Luckily Harry had left for her friend's house for a sleepover and would be there for another day or two. John was sure his mother had planned it that way as to avoid confrontation.

His leg wouldn't stop shaking as the clock struck 7:30. "Where are they?" he demanded under his breath, not wanting to wait any longer, and as if on queue he heard a loud crack, like a backfiring car right outside of his house. Quick as a flash he jumped up and ran to the door, only to find a tall, bearded man smiling at him, "Wonderful plants you have" he smiled as he let himself into the house. John couldn't find any words to say, as he stood rooted to the spot, watching the man make himself at home. "Wonderful furniture you have," he remarked, "Usually I have to conjure up my own to feel comfortable." At that moment his mom walked into the room and stared slack jawed at the woman.

John finally snapped himself out of the trance and was able to say, "I'm John, and I'm guessing you're from Hogwarts, Mr." "Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore" he completed. "I'm headmaster of Hogwarts" His mother finally caught up with the program and responded, "Julia, Julia Watson. It's a pleasure to meet you, but I didn't think that we would be meeting the Headmaster, I thought it would just be a teacher." With that the man got a strange twinkle in his eye and responded, "Ah, yes, normally that would be the case, and Professor Sprout, the head of your father's house, John, was all set to come here, but after having my attention drawn to you by my deputy headmistress, Professor McGonagall, I decided that I would come on my own."

John stood there taken aback, why would anyone think him special enough to point out to the headmaster, surely there were plenty of students that deserved more attention than him. "I'm confused Mr. Dumbledore," he confessed, "Why would I be so special as to point out to you?" "Ah, John you underestimate yourself," Dumbledore tutted, "but I suppose that you'll want a specific answer." He drew in a breath and began, "It was drawn to my attention that your accidental magic as it is usually called differed from most students that come to Hogwarts School." John frowned, "Oh, so I'm different in a bad way" he thought to himself, but before that thought could fester for too long Dumbledore added, "Your magic doesn't come in spurts like most of our students does. You see, John, your magic is working constantly, think about it. Why is it that no one in your family has gotten sick in years, or those plants in your front yard haven't died, or whenever your mom cries you seem to be the only one who can make her happy again?"

Taken aback John's mother asked, "Are you meaning to say that John is constantly healing things around him? But how is that possible?" Dumbledore shook his head and smiled, "I have absolutely no idea! We've never seen anything like it before, usually kids just show magic when they're angry or scared. That's why I came along to talk to you, see if anything in his childhood could have caused this" John stood there in awe, was he really that special? How could he do magic without even knowing he was doing it, "But Mr. Dumbledore, how could I be healing people constantly, wouldn't that make me weak or something? Are you sure that I'll be able to do other magic." Dumbledore looked at John, "Ah, John you are remarkable aren't you? Very, bright. Yes, I'm afraid that that is the issue; a lot of fully-grown wizards couldn't keep that kind of magic up. I'm guessing that we'll see great things from you, when you learn to apply your skills." Redirecting his attention to Julia he warned, his mood shifting, "This is why John must go to Hogwarts, he is far too talented to let his magic go to waste. If it isn't harnessed there could be consequences." Julia seemed to get a hold of herself and replied, "Yes, of course, yes he can go." "Splendid. Then we best be off, John. Lots of shopping to do today, we'll have to drop by Gringotts to get some of the money your father left for you. Now, hold onto my arm tightly and whatever you do, don't let go. This won't be pleasant" Dumbledore looked oddly excited as he warned John of the danger. Excitement coursing through his veins, John waved to his mom and clutched onto Dumbledore's arm, and the next thing he knew it felt like he was getting sucked through a straw.


	3. A Somber Affair

John landed on the ground roughly. The world spun around him and he had to balance himself on Dumbledore. Once the world was right side up again Dumbledore commented, "The first time is always the worst, but at least you didn't throw up." He said pleasantly as if appearing on the opposite side of London was completely normal. "Why are we going to this old pub?" John asked, wondering how this related to his school supplies. Dumbledore, however, looked surprised at his statement. "Do you mean to tell me that you can see this pub?" he questioned. John nodded his head slightly confused. Dumbledore got excited and enquired further, "Have you always been able to see this?" "Yea," John replied warily, "its just some old pub, never mentioned it because I'm too young to drink. What does this have to do with Hogwarts?" John noticed that it always seemed as if Dumbledore knew something he didn't, but he soon explained; " This is the entrance to Diagon Alley, where we'll get your supplies. There are some heavy charms surrounding the building so that non-magical people just see an empty lot." He explained, "The interesting thing is that most magical children who don't know that they have magic or have it pointed out to them don't see the building, so the fact that you saw it means that you have a strong mind." Before John could ask any questions Dumbledore swept into action, striding towards the door. "Oh what have I gotten myself into?" he mumbled as he chased after the tall wizard.

John rushed up to meet Dumbledore as he made his way through the back door of the pub. "Why are we going to an alleyway?" he asked himself, but kept his mouth shut. They walked to the back wall and Dumbledore turned around to make sure that John was there. "Okay, now this is how we get into Diagon Alley, watch carefully." With those words he whisked his wand out of his robes and tapped on the blocks, until suddenly, the wall seemed to be parting forming a doorway. Dumbledore walked through the wall smirking at John's amazement, and John simply followed behind, still slack jawed at the Wizarding world.

John followed Dumbledore down the long and winding road to Gringotts bank. When they got there John couldn't help but stare at the creatures that were working the desks. "Mr. Dumbledore" John began, "I don't have a key or anything for my dad's money. How will I get it?" "Ah, you see, John your father was apart of a very powerful wizarding family that had a lot of money, and he was it's only heir, so you can imagine the shock when he decided to abandon our way of life for a simpler existence. You can get in your vault as long as you pass the blood test. They'll just prick your finger and put it on parchment." Dumbledore explained as they approached the main desk. "We'll be needing to get into young Mr. Watson's vault today. His father changed his name when he left the Wizarding world, should be under the name Malone. Vault number 3 I believe." Dumbledore recalled. The Goblins eyes widened at mention of the vault number. After the blood test had been completed and the vault was changed to be under the name Watson, they made their way to the carts and down to his vault.

Upon arriving to the vault, the goblin used his finger to open it and John first witnessed what Dumbledore meant by a powerful family. Stacked from the floor to the ceiling were countless piles of gold coins. John gulped, "Is this all mine? I mean am I…rich?" Dumbledore chuckled a little, "Well I suppose in terms of money, you are very rich, John." "But, why would my dad keep this hidden?" John asked recalling a lot of nights spent hungry. "Well, John" Dumbledore began, "I'm guessing that your father wanted a life of his own, and if he used his family's money he would feel indebted to them some how." John nodded half in understanding at his father's desires, but half in anger at all of the paint that could have been avoided. Maybe he wouldn't have gone off to war. John collected a sum of money, having no idea how much he actually needed, and again they were racing to the surface.

When they exited the shop Dumbledore turned to John, "Now where would you like to start?" "Can we go to the book store first? I have so much to learn before I go to Hogwarts," John replied. With a twinkle in his eye Dumbledore lead John to Flourish and Bots bookstore. "I'll go and collect your school books and allow you to browse, meet me at the ice cream shop next door when you are done, I do quite like pistachio." And with that, Dumbledore was lost in the crowd of people in the store. John had no idea where to start, staring at the store in amazement. He quickly decided to limit himself to two books so as not to spoil himself, and he would need time to read his new textbooks as well. After searching through the store John chose, "Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions " by, and "Practical Household Magic". He had been tempted to get a few others that looked interesting, but these seemed the most practical. The former he hoped would help him to understand his healing ability, and the second to help his mother around the house. After purchasing his books he made his way to the ice cream shop to find Dumbledore eating as he promised a double scoop pistachio ice cream.

After the two had reenergized on ice cream, Dumbledore informed John that he had already been to the potions shop to get his supplies and they would now have to get his robes fitted. After getting poked in the side multiple times and getting three new sets of robes, John and Dumbledore headed to the owl emporium. John noticed one owl immediately. It was mostly white with a speckled breast and rust checkered wings. "Oh, no, you don't want her," The owner commented, "I've had three people return her already." But, as soon as he said that the owl swooped down off of it's perch in the shop and landed on John's shoulder nibbling his ear affectionately. The shop owner's chin practically hit the floor at the sight. Dumbledore, however, smiled widely and cheerfully declared, "I think we'll take her none the less." John smiled and nodded quickly. After purchasing the necessary supplies for her they left the shop, the owl still on John's shoulder. "So, what are you going to name her?" Dumbledore questioned curiously. John's eyes widened, he hadn't thought about it. After a moment of silent contemplation he settled on, "Arya." He had recalled the name from one of the many books he read as a child and knew that it was perfect. "Her name is Arya," he said firmly.

"Well, all we have left is to get your wand, and then we can take you home." Dumbledore exclaimed. Despite how much fun he was having, John felt relieved to hear that he was almost done, and about to go home where he would be able to process the new information. John gulped however at the mention of a wand. This was the part of the day that he feared most. John relented and allowed Arya to be put in the cage, much to her disdain so that he could focus solely on getting his wand. He jumped in surprise when an old man seemed to appear out of nowhere from the back. "You, you must be Ollivander" he stammered. "I'm John Watson," he said feeling slightly surer of himself. Ollivander scrunched his eyes and said, "Watson, hmm haven't heard of that name, but you look far too much like someone I once knew." John was shocked, he knew he looked like his dad, but he didn't know that much. "Ah, well my name was changed from Malone." He offered hoping that it would help the old man. "Ah!" Ollivander screamed, "That's where I knew you from. Your father, Dragon heartstring, red wood, 11 and three quarter inches, I remember it well. Strong wand." After taking John's measurements and talking to himself a lot Ollivander went to the back and fetched a few wands. He opened one of the boxes and looked at john, "Just give it a wave." John picked it up and suddenly the lights shattered. "No, no not that one" Ollivander wheezed.

John had tested fifteen different wands and even Ollivander seemed exasperated at the length of time it was taking, most people only took three maybe four times max to find their fit. Dumbledore, however just looked amused as ever laughing every time a wand didn't work as if it just added to the mystery surrounding John. "I wonder" Ollivander remarked scurrying to the furthest depths of his store.

He came back choking from the dust that layered the wands in the back. "Let's try this one. It's one of my odder combinations, many would have considered me a fool to make it, much less sell it, but you do seem to be a unique one don't you, Mr. Watson." John picked up the wand and everything that he had previously broken was automatically fixed and the wilting flowers in the corner were sprung anew with life. John could feel the magic coursing through his veins and he couldn't help but let a smile spread ear to ear. "Interesting, very interesting. I never thought I would find a match. That is a very unique wand indeed, Mr. Watson. It's Beech wood with Thestral tail hair, twelve and one-quarter inches. This is the only wand I've ever sold with that core, Mr. Watson, take care of it." John was just happy that he found a wand that suited him, but Dumbledore's happy demeanor turned to one of silent contemplation.

When they exited the shop Dumbledore turned to John. "I was going to take you home, but why don't we go and get dinner first? I have some questions for you." John feared that he was going to get in trouble, but Dumbledore sensing the boy's fear added, "Oh no, you aren't in trouble, John. I just think that your talent needs further examination, besides, I'm famished." John nodded but still nervously followed Dumbledore back to the pub that they had entered through. Once they had sat down and ordered Dumbledore turned to John and drew in a deep breath as if he was looking for a place to start.

After a few moments Dumbledore found his place and asked carefully, "I know that this will not be an enjoyable question, John, but I need for you to recall for me the people that you have seen hurt or dying. You seem to have a strong nature to heal, which believe me, is a fortunate outlet for your power, but I need to know where it comes from." Dumbledore looked pained to have to ask so much of the young boy. John was taken aback at the question, but did his best to recall everything to his best ability. "Well, when I was five my best friend, Katie and I were out playing in, a tree trying to see who could climb the highest and she fell out, but I couldn't save her." John replied, pained. "Ever since then I take home every hurt bird that I can, because I want them to fly and not fall. My dad also died when I was seven. He was killed in the war in Afghanistan, but my mom wouldn't tell me how. She just cries a lot, but I didn't like to see her like that so I always tried to make her feel better." John replied looking down at the table. He hated having to relive the memories that haunted him.

Dumbledore could tell that John was upset and he felt a deep sorrow for the boy. No one should have to suffer that much, the boy was only eleven after all. "Thank you, John. I know that was very hard for you, but I appreciate you letting me know. That explains why you were suited to a Thestral core. You see, Thestrals can only be seen by someone who has seen death, and seeing that most people get their wands when they are your age, Thestral cores do not suit them." John looked down at the wand in his pocket. How was it that death seemed to follow him throughout his entire life? "I think that it's best we go now, your mother will be wanting to hear all about your day." Once they were outside Dumbledore held out his arm for John to hold on to. Dumbledore said that he had sent his new school supplies ahead of him. And with that, John was being sucked through another straw.


	4. Chapter 4

John woke up with a start. It was finally September 1st, and he was going to Hogwarts today. The last two months had been agonizingly slow, him finishing his books in one month and re-reading them the second. Normally he would have gone outside and played with Harry, but she refused to speak to him because she thought that he was a freak who shouldn't be around normal kids. By the time John and his mother were ready to head to the train station Harry had still not come down to say goodbye and John stood in the doorway still hoping. His mom motioned for him outside from the taxi and John whispered, "Goodbye, Harry" as he closed the door and headed out to finish loading the cabin.

Dumbledore had given John very specific instructions on how to get onto the platform so finding nine and three quarters wasn't as bad as it could have been. John hugged his mom goodbye and got her help loading the trunk. With one last wave he and Arya got onto the train to look for a compartment. John had been one of the last people there so he had to walk all of the way down to the end of the train to find an empty compartment to sit in. John stored Arya in the overhead compartment and pulled out his dad's copy of Hogwarts a History. It was the only book that he hadn't reread and he needed something to occupy the time.

After the train started moving John heard a loud commotion outside. He stuck his head out of his compartment and saw a small boy with raven curls on his head being pushed into the train wall by two other students. The raven-haired boy spat to the girl, "Well, Donovan, you may call me a freak but at least I'm not attracted to that idiot Anderson." When he said Anderson he made eye contact with the other boy that was pushing him against the wall. John couldn't take anymore and he crossed the gap between himself and the fight at lightening speed pulling out his wand and trying to remember the spell he learned about. He had never tried it before but now was the time to try. "Wingardium Leviosa" he slicked his wand and much to his and everyone else's disbelief the kids named Anderson and Donovan were being lifted into the air. John raised them up as high as he could and let them fall, landing a punch on the face of the boy before he cold regain himself. They both screamed and went running off to their compartment-yelling freak.

John put his wand back in his pocket and turned to the raven-haired boy. He extended his hand to help him up. After a moments hesitation the boy took his hand. "Want to share a compartment with me? I'm the only one in there," he offered. The boy sharply nodded his head and went to pick up his things. With John's help they were all settled in. John sat down next to the boy and put his hands on the side of his face. "This might hurt a little bit." He warned. He screwed his eyes shut in concentration and let only thoughts of what he boy would look like healed run through his mind. He felt a surge of power go through his hands and when he opened his eyes the boy was healed. He smiled satisfied and went back to his own side of the compartment.

"I'm John Watson by the way." He offered as he stuck out his hand in greeting.

The boy eyed his hand as if he was deciding whether or not he should shake it, but he finally took John's hand, "Sherlock Holmes." John smiled; maybe making friends wouldn't be too hard after all. "So why were you in a fight with those kids?" John enquired. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, "We've known each other since we were kids and they think that I'm a freak because I can deduce people. For example." He took a deep breath before rattling off, "You're a half-blood, but you had to have someone come to your house because you didn't know about the wizarding world, most likely because your father died in a muggle war when you were seven. They would have sent Professor Sprout to your house seeing that she is the head of Hufflepuff House, which your father was in. You have an older sister, but you two don't get along, but that's just recent. Oh, and you've come into a large sum of money recently." Sherlock leaned back in his chair and wore a bored expression on his face, as if that was something normal.

John sat in his seat with a dumbfounded expression. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed grinning from ear to ear, "Simply fantastic! How'd you do it?" Sherlock looked taken aback at John's enthusiasm but explained nonetheless. "Easy," he smirked, "I could tell that you were a half blood because of the way you look at magic. No child who has grown up with it all of their lives reacts that way. Now, you aren't a muggle born because of your textbook and the scarf that is peaking out of your bag, clearly from Hufflepuff house, but old so not a friends, a parents. The only reason that your father wouldn't tell you about magic was if he wasn't around in your childhood, and based upon your posture I can tell that he was a military man, so the obvious conclusion was that he died in action. I said age seven because that's the date written on the back of the picture that you have in your pocket. You used to be good friends with your sister. I can tell because those are her old shoes, but you haven't been outside in a while seen by your lack of tan, which means you were cooped up, she didn't want to talk to you, probably out of jealousy. Now, they would have sent Sprout because in a lot of Wizarding families most members are placed into one house, so they would want to acquaint you with your potential head of house. Now, about the money. All of your things are new, your robes, your text books, and you have a pouch of money in your bag-heard it jingling around-but you didn't go overboard, you still have your old school bag and tattered shoes which means you didn't have this money until you found out about being a wizard." Sherlock took another breath when he finished and sat back waiting for the explosion.

John opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Well that was ruddy amazing!" he exclaimed excitedly. Sherlock couldn't help but let a smile creep onto his face. "That isn't what people normally say." "Well, what do they normally say?" John asked confused. "Piss off" Sherlock shrugged. The next thing they knew the two were erupting in a fit of giggles. Once they had calmed down Sherlock patted himself on the back, "Well, I didn't expect to get everything right." John smirked at that, "Well, you got nearly everything right. I am a half blood, my father was in Hufflepuff and he did die in a muggle war in Afghanistan, and they were supposed to send Professor Sprout to come pick me up." Sherlock looked confused, "supposed to?" he questioned. John merely shrugged his shoulders. "Yea, they sent Dumbledore instead, he wanted to talk to me about my magic." Now that, that got Sherlock's attention. He smirked, "Finally, someone interesting." He smirked.

He and John spent the rest of the train ride acquainting themselves with each other, John explaining his interaction with Dumbledore, Sherlock filling John in about the things he hadn't been able to read about. By the end of the train ride the two had become, well friends. The train came chugging to a halt and Sherlock swiftly stood up, "Come along, John, we don't want to be the last ones to the boat." John followed Sherlock out of the train after ensuring that they were supposed to leave their belongings there. After having settled into a train with a boy named Carl Powers and another named Mike Stamford they moved forward, the boats piloting themselves. Nothing in any of his books had prepared John for the wonder that was Hogwarts. He couldn't help but stare in child like awe at the magnificent castle. Sherlock, however, just looked as bored as always.

They were finally in the entrance hall fixed up in a line, Sherlock and John next to each other, of course, when a tall woman walked through the large oak doors. "My name is Professor McGonagall, and in a few moments you will be sorted into your houses. At Hogwarts your house will become your family. Any successes will win points and any rule breaking will lose points." At the lose of points Sherlock snorted earning himself a sharp glare from McGonagall. "Now, the four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. We are ready for you now." John gulped as he entered the Great Hall; it was time to be sorted.


End file.
